


Insomnia

by dirtysoullessginger



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, First Time Blow Jobs, Insomnia, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:26:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28380114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtysoullessginger/pseuds/dirtysoullessginger
Summary: Some shameless smut with a little plot for flavor, where Din finds himself unable to relax and sleep. Cara and Omera come up with a few ways for him to unwind. Pre-season 2.
Relationships: Cara Dune/Omera, Din Djarin & Cara Dune, Din Djarin/Omera
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	Insomnia

Author's Note: My first Mandalorian fiction, as well as the first fanfiction I've written in over 7 years. Please don't hesitate to let me know what you think, comments and kudos will breathe life into more work. ;3

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sorgan’s single sun was dipping low in the sky, painting an amazing abstract of pink, yellow, and orange clouds. Larger planets and systems were just becoming visible as bright twinkling lights, it would take true dusk to let the sky be illuminated with the fathomless beauty of the stars and Sorgan’s twin moons. The village was lively and everyone was jubilant, they had all banded together and with The Mandalorian and Cara Dune’s tutelage, repelled and defeated the Klatooinian thugs that had plagued them for so long. Homemade spotchka among other homemade liquors and wines were flowing freely. The tantalizing smells of roasting meat, vegetables, and a huge cauldron of a krill-based soup permeated the whole village. The cheerful cadences of laughing children, the drinking songs of the grown, and an assortment of well-loved, handmade instruments had everyone’s spirits way, way up.

Everyone except, it seemed, for the Mandalorian. His mood was unreadable with his gleaming beskar armor and his ever-present helmet, though his body language was beginning to give him away. He sat close enough to the blazing bonfire at the center of the village to allow it’s heat to chase away the chill of the evening, the Child playing with a huge cricket in the grass at his feet. The insect hopped in between his boots, and the green foundling leapt after it with wide eyes and a toothy smile of excitement. The Mandalorian leaned over to observe the kid on his bug hunt, and he smiled under his helmet. A low chuckle worked its way out of his throat, and as he reached down to tousle the kid’s big ears, the Child captured the cricket and quickly stuffed it into his mouth. “Hey, we don’t eat bugs!” Mando chided with a real laugh, attempting futilely to extract the cricket from the kid’s face, much to the Child’s chagrin. He screeched around the cricket in his mouth, wrestling away his gloved hands and swallowing the cricket in two huge bites. The Mandalorian let out a big sigh, running a gloved hand over his helmet in mild frustration. “You’re something else, you know that?” The kid looked up at him and cocked his head to the side with an adorable little coo. “Yeah, he knows,” a voice said with a laugh from behind him.

Mando turned his head to find Cara Dune standing there, trademark smirk in place with a hand on her hip. “Hey,” he greeted, picking up the kid and bouncing him in his lap, hoping this would keep him from eating anymore critters until dinner was ready, which judging from the amazing smells working their way under his helmet, would be sooner than later. “You holding up okay? Today was wild, I haven’t fought like that in ages,” the former shocktrooper said with a big grin. Her hair was mussed, her side braid starting to unravel just so, smudges of mud, blood, and ash peppered her skin, but she seemed more alive than she had when he first met her. “I’m just tired,” he offered, and it seemed like she already knew he was full of it. She tilted her head to the other side and raised her eyebrows. “Tired,” she parroted with mild incredulousness, and he glanced away, unable to meet her gaze even through his helmet. “…loud,” his vocoder hadn’t picked up the beginning of his whisper.

“What’s loud?” Cara asked, losing the hand on her hip and feisty smirk, replacing it with a look of concern. “It’s nothing, forget I said anything. I’ll be fine once I can get some sleep,” Mando backpedaled, fixating on the green toddler in his lap to distract himself. “When’s the last time you got some sleep? And I don’t mean falling asleep for a couple of hours at the helm of your ship, or leaning against a wall,” she asked, reaching out to affectionately rub one of the Child’s velvety ears. He scrabbled against the Mandalorian’s armor, reaching up to Cara with his three-fingered hands in the universal child’s language: pick me up! She obliges him, reaching under his little arms to scoop him up into her own with Mando’s silent approval. She nudges his boot with her own. “Sleep?” she pressed again, her eyes on him while she blew little kisses at the Child in her arms. He let out a sigh that seemed to vibrate his vocoder, looking somewhere out over the tree line in front of them before exhaling his reply. “Four days.”

She nearly dropped the kid as he tried to flop out of her arms and go prowling through the grass again, catching him quickly by his ankles and flipping him upright. “You haven’t slept in four days??”she exclaimed in disbelief. “ _Kriffing hell,_ Mando, we battled today and you did all of that on four days without any sleep?” He stiffened somewhat, holding his hands out to accept the tumbling Child again. “I…just couldn’t seem to fall asleep,” he muttered sheepishly, tickling the kid under his chin, pulling his finger back just in time to avoid a nibble. He had seen what that little maw could demolish, and he didn’t trust the glove to hold up against the kid’s teeth. “Back on my ship, there’s always a constant hum of electricity and it’s been my home for years now. It’s harder to sleep away from it because the silence here is just too damn loud,” he explained. “Well, I know how I like to relieve stress in order to knock out,” she drawled with a dirty grin, and she wished she could see if that had dragged a blush onto his cheeks. He seemed so innocent for a guy who’s hands were stained with just as much blood as her own, and now she was thinking about what was hiding beneath all that gleaming silver beskar. His head rolled back with half a laugh at her teasing. “I’m sure you say that to all the guys,” he fired back, and this made her laugh again, mirth lighting up her face. “A few girls, too,” she grinned with a cheeky wink, and gods, she hoped that one made him fluster under all those layers. Man, she thought, this village made _really_ strong spotchka.

“I tell you what, Mando,” Cara began, pausing to stretch out one shoulder and then the other. “I’m going to go find Omera and see if she has some folksy sleep remedy that will konk you out for a few hours. Here, pass me the Green Bean and I’ll make sure that he’s looked after while we figure something out for you. You know he’ll be safe here,” she insisted, gathering up the kid while ignoring Mando’s weak protesting. The warrior takes off for Omera’s house, the kid waving at him with one clawed little hand over Cara’s shoulder. He gave a small wave in reply, exhaustion eating away at him.

Cara found Omera passing out little hand pies to the village’s children, each one crowing with joy at their prize. They turned almost as a collective and launched themselves at her. “It’s the fighter lady!” “You’re strong, miss!” “Can I hold your blaster?? Please, just for a minute!” The gaggle of upturned, begging faces swarmed around her now, and then they noticed the kid in her arms. “He ate a whole frog earlier!” “Can we play with him?” “Pleasepleasepleeeeease we’ll be so careful with him!” Cara smiled at them, and let them gently take the babe from her arms. “You have to promise to watch him, and make sure he stays out of trouble. I came over to ask Omera if she could help me with something real quick, so you’d be doing me a real favor by taking care of him until dinner is ready,” she said with a big smile, and the children were ecstatic to help her. And just like that, they were off to go pick flowers in the field over and make flower chains or something. Omera wiped her forehead with the back of sleeve of her dress, sweat had beaded there as she cajoled with the children. “So what could I possibly help you with, Miss Dune?” she queried, her eyes bright and cheeks flushed, hands moving to roll her sleeves up. “I was wondering if you knew any ways of kicking insomnia? Mando hasn’t slept in four days and it’s not for lack of trying,” Cara began, and Omera’s face quickly became concerned. It was clear that the Mandalorian had garnered a huge fan base among the children and adults alike, the warrior noted, and before she could speak again, Omera had grabbed her by the hand and started leading her back to her house. “We’ll need to gather a few things, but it’s all at my home,” she explained, weaving through other villagers and various obstacles in their way.

Once inside her admittedly cozy home, Omera breezed into her large kitchen, pulling down various bouquets of hanging herbs, giving them a quick sniff then selecting several small bundles. She then turned and beckoned Cara to follow her down a short hallway to the refresher. Inside the smaller room stood a wooden cabinet with simple decorative carvings, a pottery washbasin and matching cask for water sat on top, with a handwoven towel hanging from a small peg. To the right stood a large wooden tub that had been carved from what seemed to be a massive singular hunk of wood, with two smaller wooden pails next to its base. “Right. So, my method for getting rid of insomnia starts with a few nips of spotchka or Caben’s famous mead, some herbal tea, and a hot bath. I’ve got the herbs here, and it shouldn’t take terribly long to get the tub filled, we keep hot water going almost constantly during the season. It’s used to help distill the krill into spotchka,” Omera explained while picking up one of the water pails. “I can handle the water part, no sense on tiring us both out, especially when you have to deal with the children at dinner time,” Cara said while picking up the other pail and then taking Omera’s from her. “You get everything else ready, just point me towards the watering hole,” she said with a smile. The slender brunette lets out a grateful sigh, and gives the warrior directions to where the hot water is kept over flame outside.

The sun was sitting so low on the horizon that it graced the treetops, bathing the village in a staggeringly beautiful display of color while casting a shadow over the edge of the village. The sky burned red to yellow, orange to violet, and streaked with pink and gold tinged clouds. The Mandalorian gazed with some wonder at the sight, his thoughts still preoccupied with the last few days’ events. He pondered what it would look like without his helmet, to feel the warmth of the sun’s rays and cool breeze across his bare face. He shook his head with a derisive snort to dismiss the thought as quickly as it came. It was imperative that himself and the kid lay low as long as possible, that the Imperials after the foundling would lose their trail and look elsewhere…and then there was the niggling thought at the back of his brain….why do they want him so badly? What are there plans for him? After rescuing him in the first place from that Dr. Pershing and his needles to how eagerly they had been pursued until now…it couldn’t be good. He shook his head again to lose _those_ thoughts as well. As his head shook, he caught a glimpse of someone approaching him. The Mandalorian moved to his feet, stumbling somewhat and finding himself steadied by the tattooed arm of one Cara Dune wrapped around his forearm. He instinctively cupped his hand around her elbow and they stood for one heartbeat, then two, and then he pulled himself away with embarrassed gratitude. “Yeah, you need some sleep. C’mon, Omera has a plan to get you to pass out,” she said, gesturing towards her house.

He followed, his helmet scanning ahead of them obviously looking for the Child. “Don’t worry, the children have him and a few of the other adults that aren’t busy cooking are watching over them. I heard rumors they were making flower chains,” the former shocktrooper soothed with a smile. They were greeted at the door by Omera, who led them back into the refresher where a steaming bath that smelled of calming herbs awaited. A flagon of spotchka sat on the cabinet where the washbasin had been, three glasses next to it. The Mandalorian froze up, not entirely sure where this would be heading. His mind was always racing to the next target, and now it looked an awful lot like…He knew about sex and the mechanics of the act thanks to a holodeck or two, but hadn’t really had any experience himself.

“…are you trying to seduce me?” He asked flatly, his gaze moving from the tub and booze to the two admittedly beautiful-in-their-own-rights women with already flushed cheeks. “How much have you two had to drink already?” Cara swears she can feel his gaze, and she just lets out a throaty chuckle while Omera flusters and sputters that it’s just an herbal soak, that it always does the trick for her, and she fiddles with the tail of her braid nervously, refusing to meet his stare. He seems unfazed, and moves to take a step back before she drops her braid and the words start to pour out of her, tumbling over lips loosened ever so slightly by the salty-sweet-strong spotchka. “Oh Mandalorian, I would never try- I’m a mother, you know, so why – listen, it’s just herbs to help you relax. There is nothing aphrodisiacal about any of them, I grow them in the garden out back,” and she finally shuts her mouth in time for Cara to let out a stream of laughter, doubling over and reaching for the spotchka at the same time. “Oh man, this is too much, I have clearly not had enough to drink for this,” she shakes with the force of her humor, catching her cool long enough to take several long dregs straight from the bottle. Luminescent blue droplets glow on her upper lip like a silly mustache, and she licks them up with a deliberate swipe of her tongue. Mando shakes his head and a sigh reverberates out of his vocoder. “I can try the bath, but you two…can’t stay for that part,” he concedes. At this point he might do literally anything for a few blessed hours of real REM sleep.

“Need a hand or two getting out of that armor there, ole buddy ole pal?” Cara offers with a slightly lopsided smirk. The tension has left her shoulders for sure, but seriously, what is in that spotchka? Omera flushes a deeper shade of pink and quickly pours herself a glass of the glowing blue liquor, taking a long swig that leaves her glass nearly empty. Mando sighs, “I’ve known you for literally like three days, and we’re already old friends? Are you plastered already?” She strikes a strongman’s pose with her arms raised overhead, the muscles in her arms rippling with sinewy grace. “Listen, we scrapped to a draw on that first day, and the way a man fights says a lot about what _kind_ of man he is. As far as I know, I learned everything I need to know about you then…except I’m getting curiouser and curiouser about what’s under all that shiny stuff by the minute. Sooo….let us help you get out of everything but that helmet because that’s the gentlewomanly thing to do, and then give you that sweet, sweet privacy,” Cara drawled, her voice almost a purr at the end. Mando stood silent, and just let out another sigh. “Fine.”

The two women descended on him with surprisingly gentle hands, undoing buckles and almost reverently pulling away pieces of beskar, setting them carefully to the side. He stands stock still and yet trembling ever so slightly, poised to run, no one has been this close to him or close _like this_ with anyone. Each woman was so gentle with his armor, so gentle with him, he could feel the warmth of their fingers almost burning his skin through his under armor, he allowed himself to shudder as Omera slowly brought down the zipper to his armored shirt, Cara sliding her hands up to push the thicker fabric up and over, baring his shoulders and chest. His breath caught low in his throat, he tried to swallow and found his mouth was a desert, his eyes falling on the glowing blue spotchka. He was never a big drinker, what with social drinking as a Mandalorian being frowned upon with the whole helmet deal, but he was so thirsty that even the booze looked appetizing. Movement fluttered at the fly of his trousers, he snapped his head down to find Omera pulling down his trouser zipper, Cara deftly undoing his belt and buttons, and the two of them met his gaze. Omera’s eyes were deep, warm and brown, while Cara’s eyes were so dark they were nearly black, and he was about to drown in both of them. He stood before them, feeling very exposed in his underwear and battered tank top, his skin glistened with a sheen of sweat that could _only_ have to do with how hot that bath water was. He shifted his stance to hopefully hide how, ah, excited he was for this bath, and the women flushed a little darker with their own excitement. “My word is my bond, Mando…you still have your helmet and your dignity, and now the two of us are going to have a little more to drink out there while you get yourself all cleaned up and relaxed,” Cara said suddenly, pouring two full-to-the-brim glasses of spotchka and Omera chased her out of the refresher to leave the Mandalorian alone.

The door swung shut behind them, and the Mandalorian let out a breath he forgot he was holding. He glanced around the room to finish grounding himself. One window to his left side if he sits in the tub _this_ way, with a long curtain that Omera had already drawn shut. A lantern burning a three-wicked obviously handmade candle hung on a hook above the washbasin and mirror, his reflection shone burnished gold in the candlelight instead of his usual silver gleam. He turned and checked the door again, he wasn’t sure if those two were going to try anything else…granted it would probably be Cara over Omera, he didn’t see the kindly mother going out of her way to behave in anyway that wasn’t decorous. Satisfied that he finally had his privacy, he made the move and lifted his helmet up and away from his head. It had been awhile since he’d been able to look at his own face, and he drank his visage in almost greedily. “Hey you,” he whispered, bringing his hand up to ruffle his short dark brown curls, damp and unruly from being smooshed by his helmet. The same hand traced down his own cheek, feeling the smoothness of his skin peppered with sparse facial hair. Maybe next time he’d shave when he was safely back in the _Razor Crest._ He picked up the homemade bar of soap and the hand towel, and faced the still-steaming tub. He could tell that the last vestiges of sunlight had finally been claimed by the all-encompassing dark of night, and opened the lantern to blow out the candle.

Bathed in utter darkness, the Mandalorian slipped out of his undershirt and boxers. The water was almost uncomfortably hot against his aching body, but it still felt amazing. He let out a heavy sigh of pleasure as he submerged himself beneath the surface. Without his helmet on, he got the full force of the herbs as the hot water effectively steeped them like a huge mug of tea. The heady scents of something thick and cloying – roses, he thought, and lavender, and something wild and citrusy…thyme? Rosemary? Some secret herb only found here on Sorgan? He could feel his muscles relaxing while the sweet herbs did their job on his nose and lungs, and after a few minutes, he began to lather the bar of soap with the hand towel, dragging the surprisingly soft cloth across his skin.

The soap was as invigorating as the herbal blend he was soaking in, though it was more pungent with notes of pine and mint, and he was sure that the water must resemble some sort of murky Mandalorian tea. The pale glow of the spotchka bottle was the only light left in the room, and he reached the bottle easily from where he reclined. Bringing it to his lips, he swallowed deep and long, feeling the familiar burn race down his throat to both cool him and stoke a fire inside that he hadn’t really noticed before. It began to roll low in his belly in a way that had him reaching absently down to cup his package in his calloused hand. He gripped himself while swallowing another long draught of the blue liquor, his toes curling somewhat as tingles of pleasure shot up his spine. He stopped himself then, panting slightly, and stretched back to set the bottle down. _“What am I kriffing doing? I’m a guest in her home, in her bathtub, and now I’m touching myself? There has to be something else in the damn drink,”_ he thought, his face hot from the bath and embarrassment. And yet…as he stretched back, his body was mostly out of the tub while water dripped in rivulets down his abdomen, bringing his attention back to himself. His erection was raised in a proud solute to his own dirty thoughts, just illuminated in the glow of the spotchka and yet his eyes were adjusted to the dark and even he was impressed by himself. Leaning to arch out of the tub a little further, he screwed his eyes shut and reached for himself again. _Dank ferrik_ , it felt so good, and it had been so long since he had last allowed himself to indulge in a little stress relief.

And then there was the faintest of knocks at the door. He panicked and plunged back under the water, his arousal smothered for a moment but judging from the way it ached, he would be reaching full release or he’d probably die. “Mando!” Cara whispered loudly through the door frame. “Do you have anymore sssspotchka? We drank what we had out here and we’re still…thirstyyy,” she slurred ever so slightly, he could see her shadow outside the door and his heartrate seemed to quadruple. Even with a locked door between them, this was still the most naked he had ever been next to another living, breathing person and he felt so very, very exposed. “Mandooooo,” she croons next, “You didn’t fall asleep in there, did ya? You could drown, don’t worry, we’ll save you!” And then she shoulder-checked the door open, spilling faint candle light onto the floor.

He pulled the towel over his face quickly, before hearing Cara swear under her breath and fall to the floor. He reached out of the tub to grab his helmet, cramming it quickly over his wet hair. The infrared flared to life, and he could see that Cara and Omera had both fallen into the fresher onto the floor, and it seemed like…”Are you wearing blindfolds?” he asked and it was like the breath had gone out of him, as the pair of them were wearing a good deal less clothing than when the evening had started. “Technically, my good MANdalorian,” Cara began, laughing at her own wordplay before quickly seriousing back up. “They are blindfolds but they are also…” she lowered her voice to the loudest whisper, “PANTIES,” she finished with a conspiratorial giggle shared by Omera. The aforementioned woman of the house gave a coquettish little shrug, and confirmed, “It seemed like a good idea when she brought it up…ooh, spotchka!” The little brunette minx had snatched up the bottle and took a big swig before handing it to Cara to have some as well. “Putting underwear over your eyes and saving me from potentially drowning in your tub was a good idea at some point tonight?” he said dryly, watching the two of them fidgeting on the floor in infrared with intensity they couldn’t see.

Cara clapped her hands together idly for a minute before asking, “So is the bath helping?” Omera leaned into her shoulder and chuckled softly behind her hand. “Well, actually it was until you broke down the door and nearly gave me a heart attack,” he admitted. “I can’t be too aggravated, at least you were trying to preserve my Creed by wearing blindfolds.” Cara gave the bottom of Omera’s messy braid a light tug and laughed, “I told you it was a good idea! Just like losing all those layers was a good idea. I don’t know about _you_ , but all that spotchka has got me just…burning…up…” she trailed off with dramatic sigh, somehow managing to look alluring and ridiculous all at the same time. His erection continued to rage on, and this really wasn’t helping anything. “Well, uh, let me just finish up in here and then you too can have your very own bath, all to yourself,” he sputtered out, his heart skipping a beat as the door was nudged shut with one of Cara’s long, shapely legs. “Don’t wanna waste the hot water, do we, ‘Mera?” the warrior goddess purred, bringing her legs beneath her to crawl seductively towards the splashing of water. “I don’t need to see to find you, Mando,” she crooned again, and Omera followed in unison. “And we don’t need to see you to have a real nice time,” the widow whispered, reaching out as they approached the tub.

His heart leapt out of his throat for a minute as the infrared followed the two nubile women, Cara’s hands reaching out and raking nails down her back causing Omera to cry out softly. He knew she was undoing the bodice at the back of her gown, and that Cara was already nearly in her underwear. He began to protest and quickly lost his voice as Cara’s hand cupped Omera’s cheek, then brought their faces together in a gentle kiss at first that quickly began to unravel as the widow was already almost mewling with pleasure from just this. He could hear their lips crush together, wet and inviting and their breathy little moans made his cock jump. He didn’t even notice that he was stroking himself again beneath the water until some splashed over onto the floor. The girls broke the kiss, and he could almost see a string of saliva still connecting their lips while they seemingly remembered he was there. “Why don’t you come out of the water now? It’s our turn to get clean,” Omera urged, and frankly she amazed herself at her own forwardness. She reached into the tub and easily found the towel floating near the surface.

“Mmmm, it’s still hot,” she murmured to Cara, who slid her hand across Omera’s chest, pausing to cup each full breast and tweak her nipples before trailing down her arm to take the cloth from her. She let out a soft moan of pleasure, and Cara brought the towel down the side of her neck and across the valley of Omera’s breasts. With her other hand, Cara finished untying her bodice, and tugged the fabric down and freed her body. She dipped the cloth in the water again, and she gently pushed Omera onto her back, using her discarded dress as a makeshift pillow, and languidly dragged it over her chest again, and then tantalizingly lower to her puffy mons. Mando watched in infrared amazement as Cara scooted up to catch Omera’s mouth with her own, swallowing the other’s soft cries of pleasure as she rubbed her most sensitive slit with slow, purposeful strokes. His mouth ran dry again, and the spotchka had a splash left in it…so he pulled his helmet off and downed the liquor quickly. This was so much more intense than the holodecks he had seen before.

Cara released Omera’s kiss-swollen lips and leaned back to run her hand cautiously to where she could hear the Mandalorian breathing hard like he was running a marathon. “I swear we can’t see anything, so why don’t you just come a little closer…” she found his hand gripping his own hip so hard she thought he’d bruise himself. “This is just as much for you as it is for us,” she added in a lascivious purr, lightly running her fingers up his arm and then dragging her nails down harder, eliciting a deliciously throaty gasp of pleasure from the Mandalorian. “Why don’t you, ah, get me cleaned up a little while I give _this naughty little loth cat a tongue bath?”_ Cara murmured, handing Mando the cloth and resuming her play between Omera’s thighs. Cautiously, tentatively, he dipped the cloth into the tub before gently bringing it to Cara’s shoulders, his heart leaping at her appreciative moan. As Cara continued to devour her, Omera’s breath came in quicker pants and mewls until she finally stiffened, raising her hips to meet Cara’s mouth as she reached a crescendo of pleasure. She lay gasping and quivering on the floor in a human puddle, Mando standing over both of them sweating and too hot for his own skin. He pulled off his helmet slowly, setting on the floor next to the tub and away from their antics.

Maybe this was a fever dream and he was actually, finally asleep. He pinched himself in the thigh, nope, that hurt, this had to be real. He could smell an unfamiliar smell overlaid with the mixed herbs of the bath, and as Cara stood and turned towards him, he realized it was Omera’s arousal. He opened his mouth to speak and found Cara’s fingers splayed over his lips and that scent was so strong and so sweet, he couldn’t help himself and licked her fingertip. It was so female and exotic and it sent even more blood to his raging erection that she obliged and let him suckle Omera’s nectar from her finger. “So eager,” she murmured, pulling her hand back after he cleaned her digits, licking his lips and breathing hard. He watched her face with half-lidded eyes, drowning in his own arousal and satisfied that his face was still unseen. “I’m still dirty,” she whispered, and spirited her fingers down his arm to grab his hand, dunking the forgotten towel into the water and bring both of their hands up to rub across her creamy flesh, wiping away the toils of battle. “And now that we’re all clean, it’s time to get proper dirty,” Cara smirked, and bent down to scoop Omera up in her strong arms. “To the bedroom!” she charged forward before Mando had to grab her shoulder to steer Omera’s head away from the door frame and a likely concussion.

Once safely contained in Omera’s bedroom, Cara rolled her out into the center of the bed, “Blindfold still in place?” she asked, and Omera murmured an affirmative, stretching her body out across the bed like a carnal sacrifice. Mando’s breath caught in his throat, Cara was just as nude and beautiful in the dark of the room, various scars and tattoos bisecting her taut yet curvy physique. “Come here,” she held her hand out in Mando’s general direction, and he gingerly took it. She pulled him forward and he tumbled into bed on his hands and knees, and he gazed up the length of Omera’s willowy frame, the small tuft of dark curls crowning her pink and swollen snatch, and then to Cara’s strong frame, the swell of her breasts and the pronounced curve of her buttocks. “I’m gonna dig back in, she’s delicious. You do what feels natural, okay? When I’m finished with dessert, I’m gonna come take care of you next,” she began with a breathy purr and finished with a predatory growl that had his breath hitching in his throat again. She pressed a chaste kiss to the palm of his hand, and crawled back up to find the nexus of her thighs and gave her a long lick that left Omera shivering.

He gulped, raking a hand through his still-damp curls, he could feel the heat rising up off of their bodies, his body was so tuned up with so much physical contact in such a short time. He watched hungrily as Cara assaulted Omera’s dripping slit, his hands aching for something to grab onto, so he gripped his cock with one hand and questioningly reached out to cup Cara’s right breast as it hung down heavy and pendulous between Omera’s legs. The ex-shocktrooper let out a pleased moan, pressing her chest harder against his palm while she doubled her efforts on the woman spread out before her. The widow let out wordless little cries of pleasure as Cara’s ministrations made her hips jerk and roll beneath her obviously skilled mouth, Cara reached up with the same hand he realized she had been touching herself with and brought one, then two fingers and pumped slowly in and out of her slickness. Within moments it seemed Omera had come undone again, and he watched with fascination as Cara pulled her fingers back and they were coated in the thick cream of Omera’s desire. She rolled her head over her shoulder to where she knew he was still sitting, his hand on himself and the other on her breast, cautiously tweaking her peaked nipple. She raised those fingers up to the sinfully smirking mouth and slowly drew them into her kiss-bruised lips, sucking her essence from her fingers. 

"I need a minute after that one, my stars,” breathed Omera, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Cara licked her one more time, lingering, back to front, and it left Omera a puddled mess. “Your turn,” she murmured to the Mandalorian, slinking across the bed until she found his thigh, tiptoeing up the expanse of sinewy muscle until she found the muscle she was questing for. “You ready, Mando?” she purred low in her throat, and he found that he was and wasn’t ready at all at the same time. “Din,” he said softly. She paused. “Din?” she asked, and it was surreal to hear his name fall from her lips like that, all breathy and excitable. “My name. _Kriff_ , we’ve come this far, you can at least know my name,” he explained in a rushed exhale. Her face with her panty blindfold went from a predator on the hunt to soften somewhat, and a different kind of smile graced her wicked lips. “That’s such a fitting name for you than Mando,” Omera offered up with a breathy sigh, she was still on cloud nine. They both gave a chuckle, and Cara resumed her quest for his cock and found him very ready and leaking an absolute river of pre-cum. She smiled impishly, using his own slickness to rub a slow circle under the head of his cock where most men were so incredibly sensitive. She didn’t expect his hands to fly to the bedspread and grab hold like he would lift off otherwise. She exhaled over his thigh, feeling him shiver beneath her was empowering, and she could definitely get used to this.

Her tongue darted out to wet her plush lips, and he watched her with wide eyes and heaving breaths. She wished she could meet his gaze right then more than anything, fewer things were hotter than intense eye contact while performing oral sex, but she pressed on, her tongue lapping at his tip. She found his essence to be sweetly salty and musky and something all him, and it was delicious. She swallowed his head down and began to take that throbbing length and girth into her hot mouth, he bucked his hips up to meet her and he let out a sharp moan that turned into a growl at the end. His hand unclenched from the bed and moved up to touch her hair, moving to the nape of her neck where she was beautifully tender and she groaned sweetly. Din’s fingers twitched and dug at her shoulder, rolling the muscles beneath his palm while she wrote a symphony with her mouth. That smart-talking, always smirking, absolutely fuckable mouth.

He was bigger, a lot bigger, than she had anticipated, and she literally had her mouth and hands full of him. So hard, the type of hard a man gets when he’s denied himself for far too long, and she was so excited to get him over the edge, to fly into the atmosphere like his ship. She moaned around his girth as Omera’s slim-fingered hand ghosted up her thigh and began to work at her own soaked and neglected core. She ground her hips against her digits while getting more and more of his cock down her throat until her nose was buried in his short curly thicket of pubic hair. She thought if she could see his face, that it would be thrown back with his eyes closed, mouth slack and his pulse in his throat. The idea of it sent a shuddering wave across her nethers, and Omera moaned appreciatively as Cara soaked her hand, twitching as she rode out her first orgasm of the night.

Din looked down in amazement as Cara devoured his cock while Omera rubbed expertly between her legs this time, and watching her come undone while going down on him made his balls ache with want. Her hair was the sexiest mess, her side braid undone and her raven locks curled around her face and tickling his thigh. He twitched, reaching forward to gently scoop her hair up and over one creamy shoulder. She smiled around him, before sucking hard and pulling back up slowly, releasing him with a wet _pop_ that left him boiling. “I have an idea,” she says, and with some maneuvering, Din was laid out on his back against the pillows, Omera had her legs spread over his chest to expose her womanhood to him, and Cara had nestled in between his legs. She gripped his raging girth with one tight fist and pumped long and slow from base to tip and he swore he saw stars. “Whoever comes first wins, and whoever loses doesn’t exactly _lose_ ,” the warrior reached up to cup Omera’s chin sweetly, then slowly pushed her backwards until she felt Din’s facial hair tickle the very edge of her thigh, He watched with curious eyes as her inner muscles seemed to flutter before him, and he brought his hands up to grace her hips. Now he could smell her full-force, and it was better than sucking Cara’s fingers. Still drunk and hungry for more, touch-drunk Din brings his face up and takes a gentle lap at her dripping slit. She cries out in surprise and she quivers over him, pressing back into him in encouragement. He obliges, and tries to mimic Cara’s movements while he watched her slurp away just minutes ago.

Cara works her hand furiously at her own snatch, the thought of Omera arched over Mand- _Din’s_ face while he did he best with his first time was plenty for her, but she wanted to fall over that precipice with him this time. She bobbed her head and stroked him In unison, taking him all the way to the hilt, dragging her tongue around the base of him where his sack met his shaft, moaning low in her throat. His hips jumped and bucked beneath her mouth and she could taste that he as close. She could hear Omera reaching her own peak once again, and she felt her own impending orgasm begin to wind up low in her belly. She tripled her efforts on the spear in her throat while Omera let out a cry of joy as she ground her hips into Din’s face, assuredly soaking his chin and chest with her excitement. This, coupled with Cara’s ministrations on his member, was too much for the Mandalorian and he finally let himself go, his own cry of pleasure muffled by Omera’s twitching snatch. Cara closed her eyes and followed the others into a twitching pile of pure pleasure while swallowing a seemingly never-ending orgasm. She felt his soul leave his body for a moment, too, and reached up the entwined bodies to find his hand, limp on the bed after leaving bruises on the widow’s hips. The warrior smiled triumphantly, tracing his palm and fingers lightly with her own. He gave a small start, then closed his fingers around her own.

Following a quick wash up in the refresher, Din the Mandalorian had reequipped his armor and helmet, feeling lighter than he had in years. The girls emerged from the fresher not long after, redressed and their hair plaited and everything. The only thing that could give away their shenanigans would be the way Cara and Omera kept sharing little coy smiles, and how both women were way more comfortable touching his shoulder or patting his chest when they walked by. The children had gathered a huge array of wildflowers, easily weaving them into flower chains and crowns and necklaces…everything that stood still long enough to be lassoed with flowers, wore flowers. Omera and Cara both glowed with flowers tucked in their complicated-looking braids, and even Din had received a flower crown for his helmet. He played with the Child a bit, grateful that for at least tonight, everyone was safe. Winta ran off with the kid to feed him, Omera delivered a plate covered with smoked and roasted meats and vegetables, which he accepted with a soft thanks and his gloved hand lingering against her fingers before she drew back to mind the children, giving him a secret little smile.

After a short while of enjoying the music and dancing, he gathered the kid and said a quick goodnight. After trying Cara and Omera’s tips to beat his insomnia, he had no doubts whatsoever in his mind that he was about to sleep deeply and peacefully. Safely ensconced in the barn, he settled the Child down in his borrowed wooden crib, Din watched him fall asleep quickly. He removed his helmet, cleaned his plate with a voracity he hadn’t known in ages, replaced his helmet and found sweet sleep within minutes.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author’s Note: HOLY CATS WAS THIS FUN TO WRITE. This is my first Mandalorian fiction, and while I really love Din&Cara, I’ve had a candle burning for a little Din/Cara/Omera, where Cara is totally the alpha. I wrote this in literally one sitting, no beta, barely spell-checked, it took like 10 hours? NO SLEEP ONLY SMUT

Please, feel free to let me know if yall liked it or didn’t. I love it, and that’s rare considering I typically hate everything I create LOL


End file.
